Chapter Two

A/N:

Hi all, I am quite happy with the responses to the first chapter. Thank you for that!

There are some things I like to point out though.

First of all, as this fic is obviously AU, there are some changes to the personalities of various characters. That doesn't mean that they are completely out of character, but some things are different.

The same goes for certain parts of both canons and real life events. There will be changes for some small things like the time of elections, and major 'events' like 9/11 and the impact it had on real life and JAG canon. In The West Wing, outside of a special episode, that event didn't happen.

While I try to mesh both universes as best as possible, at some point or other, you just have to go with the flow.

Second, I tend to focus on a limited numbers on characters – the main characters. And I'm sorry to say, Mac is not one of them. She will pop up here and there (more so in the beginning), but she won't play a major role. But she will hold a grudge against Harm after a certain point. And I think that this is within her character, because Mac really could hold a grudge, e.g. Skates, Singer, at the end of the show against Sturgis. And don't forget her feelings on Harm's love of flying that she transferred to other pilots.

Anyway, my main focus will be on the members of The West Wing and how Harm interacts with them.

A/N 2

You know, I read this week that the TPTB are trying to bring another spin off on the small screen. I'm not surprised that that try to profit from the franchise some more. I mean it's Hollywood after all, and quite frankly, it seems that those currently involved in the TV (and movie) lack of imagination and new ideas. I mean, look at the ever expanding 'Dick Wolf universe' incorporating the several Law & Order shows, Chicago X, and now the FBI X shows, too.

Or the many reboots that have happened the past few years, most of them not particular successful or long-running. I mean, this season alone, we have 'Clarice' - another reboot of the 'The Silence of the Lambs - and the reboot of 'The Equalizer'…

And then there is the planned 're-reboot' of CSI: Las Vegas (though I'm interested to see whether they'll do something new or do the same as before.)

And please, let us not talk about what Disney, Marvel, Star Wars… While I'm a fan of those 'universes', I think that at some point, enough is enough. Where are the innovating ideas like CSI used to be back in the day?

Uh, sorry for the rant. I used to be a TV junkie, looking forward to a new episode of this or that show. But nowadays, it's mostly boring…

Anyway, like many others, I'd thought the next show would be placed in San Diego (maybe with Mac as a protagonists), not NCIS: Hawaii. However, I think Hawaii is a smart decision, because that allows them to crossover with Magnum. It would also allow to bring some characters back from 'Hawaii Five-0', as both belong to the 'JAG' universe.

In fact, I have an outline of another fic in my drawer. In that fic, I wanted to move Harm to Hawaii after being fired by the CIA. I planned for it to be a crossover with 'Hawaii Five-0', which would have an altered timeline. I never got to work on it properly, as I have so many other projects for fics and my original works. I'm looking forward to that show and hope that they come up with some interesting characters, fresh ideas and maybe a new way of telling their stories.

Anyway, let's get the show on the road. Here is chapter two. Enjoy!

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, Virginia

"You're looking awfully chipper today. What do you have up your sleeve?" Mac asked.

Harm raised his hands in surrender. "Not a thing. I'm just convinced of my client's innocence."

"Sure you are." Lt.-Col. Sarah MacKenzie folded her arms and stared her partner down as they crossed the bullpen. "Come on. Not even a clue? For your very best friend?"

"For my very best friend, certainly. Just not while she's also playing the role of lead prosecutor," Harm said smiling.

"Ah, well. I had to try." Undaunted, Mac breezed past him and into her office. Harm only shook his head and continued on to his own office.

The past few weeks had been a struggle for both of them, and for the entire staff. Once the immediate crisis in the Arabian Sea had passed, they'd all started to relax - perhaps too much. Certainly they hadn't been prepared for the bombshell that had shattered their dear friend's life.

Now that Bud was back home, beginning an arduous rehabilitation process, everyone was going above and beyond to make everything appear normal – whatever that word meant anymore. Nearly a year ago, on 9/11, the world had changed for all Americans, but especially for all members of the armed services. The staff of the JAG HQ wasn't an exception.

One of the bastions of normalcy at JAG HQ, apparently, was the relationship between its top attorneys. For Harm, it felt as if the rest of the staff was looking to him and Mac to maintain the expected balance in the office. As a result, despite the closeness they'd found during their time in Afghanistan, something seemed to be keeping them in a perpetual holding pattern.

Although he was happy that they were getting their groove back after a few difficult years, he didn't like the lack of any further evolution. He had hoped that they would get time to talk about 'them' once and for all, but they had been extremely busy these past few weeks. Especially with Bud out of commission.

And then he was selected to not only represent the Navy in, but also head the preparations for the Joint War Crimes Tribunal Task Force. It was a great honor, but also very time consuming. It also had been a secret assignment at first. When the President had made the Task Force public in his address at the joint session of Congress, Mac had been miffed for a while that she had not been selected.

On the one hand, he could understand her point of view that she should have been a part of the task force. She had been part of the prosecution of the Navy tribunal of Mustafa Atef after all. On the other hand, it wasn't him who selected the members of the task force, he was just assigned to it. Luckily enough, Mac had come to agree to that fact, even if she hadn't liked it.

Harm was happy that their little dispute didn't turn in one of their regular spats. Especially in a time when they were facing each other in court, like they did at the moment. But what would happen if they really started dating?

Sure, they wouldn't be able to work together which would eliminate some tension in a relationship. But what would happen if someone would get a prestigious assignment like the task force or a promotion before the other did? He had thought about that for a long time. Although he was very competitive, he'd like to think that he didn't always have to come out on top. He didn't see a relationship or a friendship as a power-struggle. He wasn't so sure about Mac though. Harm sighed, now wasn't the time to think about that.

He sat down at his desk and attempted to focus on the report that Lieutenant Singer had recently delivered. It was obsessively detailed, as usual. He was still searching for actual evidence in the fourteen-page document when his phone rang, bringing a welcome distraction.

"Commander Rabb."

"Commander, this is C.J. Cregg. I hope I'm not disturbing you."

"Far from it, believe me," he responded, looking disgustingly at Singers report.

He concentrated back to his caller. He was a little surprised that she was actually calling him. Although he had thought that they had made a small connection during their meeting, as days went by without her calling, he hadn't really expected to hear from her again.

"Are you looking for a reciprocal tour of our action-packed law office?"

Her laugh was short, but genuine. "Thanks, but I'm fine," she replied drily.

"What can I do for you then? I don't have any new information on the task force."

"Actually, I wasn't calling about that. This is on another matter."

There was a pause on the line as she considered her approach. "I realize that this may be a somewhat odd request, but I think I'd like to hear some of those stories you alluded to at our meeting. I was wondering if, possibly, you'd be willing to meet after work to discuss them sometime."

There wasn't an immediate response, and when he didn't immediately relied, C.J. became embarrassed. To save face, she he rushed ahead.

"Of course, if you're uncomfortable with the idea - "

"No, not at all. Would you hold on for just a moment?"

Harm covered the receiver with one of his hands and called out to Singer as she passed by his door. "Lieutenant, a moment, please?"

Singer walked in. "Yes, sir?"

"This was supposed to be a summary, not the history of Western civilization. Could you clean it up so that I can find the ballistics report without a compass? Thank you. Dismissed," he said shortly.

As the junior officer disappeared around the corner, he returned to the phone. "I'm sorry, I had to get some information."

"No, it's all right. Like I said, I know this is an odd thing to ask."

"I was just thinking that it doesn't sound odd at all. It just sounds like a normal - "

"Date? No, that's not where I was going with it. I mean, trust me, I'm not anywhere near prepared to do anything even resembling a date."

He blinked, starting to get confused. "Okay, I stand corrected."

"Wait, I didn't mean to be so vehement. What I mean is, this is a purely self-serving request. I really could use a few hours away from my job. As you can imagine, my job doesn't really allow for many opportunities to talk to anyone outside of … well, my job. I would just like to have an evening of intelligent conversation with a person who doesn't live and die by the exit polls in Peoria. That's all I'm proposing. Take it or leave it."

Harm hesitated for a moment, trying to weigh the consequences of his answer. He tossed a brief glance in the direction of Mac's office, his earlier thoughts in mind. Even 'though C.J. had stated that it wasn't supposed to be a date, he couldn't help but think that it would be nice to see her again.

All right. You've got a deal."

She hadn't really expected him to agree, so it took her a moment to decide how to proceed. "Okay, then. Are you free Thursday?"

Harm checked his calendar. "I am. Are you sure you're going to be?"

"I'm never sure, but as long as no major crisis or problem erupts, I ought to be able to escape before too late. Say eight o'clock?"

"That ought to work. I don't suppose you've already thought of a location?"

"As a matter of fact, no, but thinking on my feet is one of the things I get paid to do," C.J. said.

"Do you know the Café Maria on Columbus Avenue?"

Harm thought for a moment. "Yeah, I know it. I used to live around there."

"It's their Thursday special. I told you I think on my feet."

"And you do it well. So, Café Maria on Thursday night?"

"Sounds good. I really appreciate this."

"I'll look forward to it as well."

"Thanks. See you then."

Harm hung up the phone, then stared at it for a while. What exactly had he just agreed to? She'd gone out of her way to explain the non-date status of this meeting. Then what was it supposed to be? Make new friends week? She was certainly an interesting person. Bold, but in a refreshing, non-threatening way.

So what the hell does she want with me? At last, he decided that it was nothing more than what they'd outlined: a friendly cup of coffee between adults who didn't know each other at all, aside from one meeting. If nothing else, it would be a break in his routine, and his routine could definitely use a break. Making a note in his weekly calendar, he turned his attention back to his computer.

Café Maria

Columbus Avenue, Washington D.C.

C.J. swung her car into the first available parking space and hurried toward the door of the café. She checked her watch. Twenty-four minutes past eight. Damn. She'd been on her way out at seven thirty, but Toby had cornered her with a 'quick' question about subsidiaries for soybean farmers, and almost none of Toby's questions were ever quick. Now she was just hoping that her companion hadn't already given up on her and left.

When she reached for the door, though, another hand shot out to grab it - and she was greeted by a pair of piercing eyes that, once again, she had to look up to meet.

"Good timing," Harm observed, tucking his cover under his arm and holding the door open. "I was just rehearsing my apology for being late," Harm said with a sheepish smile.

"Looks like we can just chalk it up to demanding careers." C.J. stepped inside and located a suitable table near the corner. "I wouldn't have expected lawyers to have to work so late, though."

"I had to meet with a client. Trial's making him nervous, so I have to continually keep reassuring him that he's not screwed."

"What's the charge?"

"Murder."

She blinked. "Well, I can see why he might be nervous about that."

"Yeah. The kid's twenty-four years old, and the prosecution alleges that he got into an argument with a fellow squad member and attacked him outside of their barracks."

"Did he do it?" C.J. asked interested.

He lifted an eyebrow. "Let's leave attorney–client privilege aside. Do you really think I'd tell you?"

"No, I don't think you'd tell me. But you do know, don't you?"

Very perceptive, Harm thought. "Yes, I do."

That line of conversation effectively ended as they ordered their coffees from a passing waiter.

C.J. watched him for a moment, sizing him up again. "Law is probably one of the few professions I could never picture myself in."

"Really? I would've expected the West Wing to be full of lawyers."

"Oh, it is, but they're mostly former corporate lawyers, if they have actually worked as a lawyer before going into politics. I'd be surprised if any of them had seen the inside of a court room for years, let alone tried a murder case," C.J. said thinking of her immediate colleagues Josh, Toby, and Leo. The only one who had actually practiced law in the near past had been Sam. But he had told her that he had done mostly contractual work.

"No, it's the whole concept of trying to defend a person whom you know is guilty. I couldn't handle that."

"I'm not too fond of it myself, but I understand the fundamental necessity of it. As a JAG lawyer I get assigned my cases and my role in it. I don't get much say in it. So, it's pretty normal to defend a guilty client. Fortunately, the situation when I have to defend someone I thought of or knew to be guilty of murder didn't come up all that often. In the end, though, it doesn't matter anyway. I have sworn an oath to defend my client to the best of my abilities."

Harm leaned back in his chair. "Anyway, what path does one take to get to the White House Press Secretary's office, if law school is out of the question?"

"A lot of luck, mostly. I escaped the Midwest to go to Berkeley, and I graduated with no clear idea of where I was going. I did a little work for some political action committees, but eventually I found myself doing PR for film studios in L.A. Although the money was good, I can't say I was too sorry to leave when the Bartlet campaign came calling."

Harm thought about her statement, then shook his head. "I'm having a hard time picturing you in the Hollywood lifestyle."

Instinctively, C.J. bristled at that statement. Her PR work wasn't something she was particularly proud of, but she had been good in it. Besides, it had been a part of her life and she wasn't about to let anyone cut her down because of it.

"Why is that? Do you have any firsthand experience with 'the Hollywood lifestyle?'" She accompanied her sarcastic, and challenging, statement with the mandatory quotation marks.

To her surprise, he didn't rise up to the challenge. In response, she received a sardonic grin. "I dated a producer for a year and a half. You have about as much in common with her as I do with the Queen of England," Harm said drily.

C.J. relaxed instantly. She didn't know what it was about her companion what had her feeling always defensive. "I see. Producers are an interesting bunch."

"That's one way to put it."

Their coffees arrived, and he took a sip of his before continuing. "It sounds like you escaped to California somewhere around the time I was escaping from it," Harm said.

"You're from out west?"

He nodded. "Around San Diego. I went to high school in La Jolla."

"Nice area."

"Unless you're sixteen and can't wait to get out, sure." He smiled ruefully.

"You knew even then that you wanted to join the Navy?"

"I knew that from the time I was five. It's the family business, such as it is."

"So do you come from a line of Navy lawyers, or Navy pilots?"

He folded his arms and leaned on the table. "What do you think?"

C.J. looked at him. "I'd say pilots."

"You'd be right."

"So, you've rebelled somewhat against the family business?"

Harm was silent for a moment. "Not exactly, due to circumstances outside of my influence, I had to change my designation."

C.J. looked at him for a moment. She swirled the straw around in her coffee, idly wondering why he didn't volunteer any further information. She wanted to ask more, but his tone of voice told her not to.

"I feel like I don't understand the military perspective as well as maybe I should. Even after nearly four years in office and everything that happened since then. Especially last year. We've had a fairly smooth ride with the Pentagon for most of the term, but sometimes I think your bosses' opinions about my boss are colored by the fact that he doesn't have a military background," she stated carefully.

"I sense a personal question coming on," Harm said.

"Wait for it." C.J. shot him a stern look, but her eyes twinkled. "Seriously. Does it bother you that the President never served?"

"Not particularly. I don't think everyone in this world is meant to wear a uniform."

"But he's your Commander-in-Chief," she persisted.

He shrugged. "Politics and the military don't always fit all that well together. There is a reason why our forefathers have made sure that the military has a civilian leadership," Harm said. "Besides, I approve of the way he's handled the recent conflicts and events. And they couldn't have chosen a finer officer to advise him than Admiral Fitzwallace."

C.J. thought about his answer. "Hypothetically, though, if he ordered you to do something that you thought was ill-advised. You know, because of a lack of experience or understanding of the situation…"

Harm replied immediately. "As long as it is a legal order, I'd still do it. Orders are orders. That's the only way the whole thing works."

She had a hard time believing that anything this critical could be so black and white. "There's been a lot of concern about the direction of our efforts in Afghanistan," she once again stated carefully. "People are afraid that the War on Terror could turn into another Vietnam; that a conflict could arise between political and military objectives. Doesn't that worry you?"

When she looked up, the coldness in his eyes shocked her into silence. "You don't want me to start in on Vietnam and its aftermath," Harm replied quietly. "I'm not really into finger-pointing on this topic, but whatever happened over there cost me my father. And I don't think you really want to go there tonight."

"I'm sorry," she said, not knowing how else to respond. "I'll back up a little. But I really am interested in what you think of the President."

"Why?"

"Because it's an election year," she shot back immediately.

He looked at her incredulously.

"No, really. I almost never talk to a person who doesn't have some kind of agenda. And from our short conversations I get the feeling that you might just be one of the few honest people left in Washington. So would you humor me?"

Harm spread his hands in an expansive gesture. "I have nothing but respect for the President."

C.J. thought about that statement. "You didn't vote for him, did you?"

"Come on, how many card-carrying Democrats are there in the armed forces?" He said evasively.

She studied him, narrowing her eyes. She knew when she was getting the run-around. "You're not going to tell me, are you? Even if you hated everything about him, you'd just sit there and not say a word."

"I don't hate anything about him."

"But if you're as conservative as you try to make it out to be, you must dislike some of his policies."

He merely fixed her with a cool expression and recited a well-worn phrase. "Public criticism of my commanding officers is prohibited under the Uniform Code of Military Justice."

Almost as an afterthought, he rolled his eyes. "I should know, after my run-in with the last Commander-in-Chief."

She decided not to pursue that comment for the moment. "I'm sure the ACLU loves it when you guys prosecute that one."

"Depends on who's in the Oval Office at the time."

This was starting to get frustrating. The more he dodged, the greater her instinct to press the issue became. "Harm," she began, sharply catching his attention. "This isn't a state secret here, all right? I just want to know what you think. How wrong could that be? It's just you and me."

He looked at her in disbelief. "'Just you'?" Harm asked her incredulously. "C.J., you're the White House Press Secretary. You sit a few feet away from the President who you talk regularly with. I can't imagine a more dangerous conversation with you. One wrong word could mean the end of my career and possible prosecution."

Although she hadn't thought about that, Harm's words stung. "You don't think I can keep the opinions of a casual acquaintance to myself?" she demanded defensively. "You think I'm going to waltz into office tomorrow and give your sound bites to the New York Times or the President? You have no idea how well I keep secrets, Commander." C.J. said heatedly, trying to keep her voice down at the same time to not make a spectacle.

"I'm sorry, C.J., but how would I know? We don't know each other well. This is just the second time we've met. And whether you like it or not, one word from you could have impact on my career, my life."

He touched her arm, stalling some of her anger. "But I can't tell you what I think of your boss's defense budget or his stance on Roe v. Wade. Not because of who you are, but because of who I am. I really am sorry."

He didn't like talking about his political opinions or affiliations.

Something about those earnest yet unyielding eyes sent her into another maelstrom of memories, and she had to mentally shake herself out of it. "I'm sorry, too. I think some subconscious part of my brain is trying to sabotage this – whatever it is – because every so often, you remind me of someone. A lot, in some cases."

She half-expected that explanation to fall flat, but instead he nodded in understanding. "I know that feeling. Sometime I'll tell you how I met my partner – "

"I got him killed," she blurted out, surprising both of them. "The person you remind me of. Indirectly, he's dead because of me."

Immediately she was horrified at herself for dropping that kind of news on a near-stranger. It wasn't even something that she'd consciously admitted to herself, but it was the way she felt.

He would have been justified in running the other way after something like this …

… but he didn't. Instead, there was something familiar in his expression. "Unfortunately, I know that feeling, too," he replied quietly.

She stared at him. "Are you serious?"

He sighed. "Maybe it's time I explained the story of why I'm a lawyer with wings."

She listened as he told her about the accident that had ended his flying career and the life of a fellow aviator, and more importantly on of his best friends. He told her about how his search for a new life had eventually led him to his position at JAG.

Somehow, as painful as it sounded, hearing that gave her comfort. If he could shoulder that kind of guilt and still move on, maybe there was some hope for her after all.

Abruptly, he pulled himself back to the present. "I apologize. I'm sure the last thing you were looking for tonight was a sob story. Especially since it sounds like you've got enough to deal with on your own."

"Actually, I was just thinking that it sounded more like a success story to me. And regardless of what I was looking for tonight, I think maybe this was exactly what I needed. Because of what I'm dealing with on my own."

"If you want to talk about it, it seems like we've already established a ground rule of nothing off-limits," Harm said drily.

C.J. drew a deep breath. "It's not a very complex issue. This spring I received a number of emails threatening my life. I had a Secret Service agent assigned to me for almost a month, and we got to be pretty close. Last month, we accompanied the President to New York City for an event, and that night they arrested the man who'd been threatening me. Unfortunately, Simon – Agent Donovan – walked into a convenience store holdup that same night, and one of the robbers shot him."

Once it was out, the tale lifted some of the weight from her shoulders. "Next to what you just told me, it's practically nothing, but that's what happened."

"It's not nothing," Harm told her, his voice gravely serious. "But I don't understand how it could be your fault."

"I tried to tell him not to come to New York. He wouldn't have been there at all if it hadn't been for me - "

"You mean, if he hadn't been doing his job?" He shook his head. "C.J., I don't know if I'm qualified to comment on Secret Service procedure, but I can tell you what it means to have a duty to uphold. He would have been there no matter what, regardless of how close he did or didn't get to you. It has nothing to do with the reasons he was killed. I can promise you that."

"I know. I mean, on some level I know, but sometimes …" She attempted a wan smile. "I don't know if I can believe all that just yet, but I appreciate you saying it nonetheless."

He drained his coffee cup before speaking again. "It seems to me that despite some rather impressive political divergences, the two of us might have more in common than I'd expected."

"How do you figure?"

"You drove up in a '65 Mustang, didn't you?"

"Yeah, I had to pay a fortune to get it shipped here from L.A., but I do love that car. Your point?"

"I was in love with my '68 Corvette – drove it for almost ten years before it was stolen. I spent half of last year and a hell of a lot of money to restore another one."

He flashed a grin, and she felt some of that tension she'd been unable to shake finally begin to ease. "Mac teased me mercilessly about it."

"Mac is?"

"My partner, Lieutenant Colonel Sarah MacKenzie."

He paused a moment, reconsidering. "It's funny. I always refer to her as my partner, even though we don't often work together anymore. I guess 'best friend' is probably a more accurate description. We've been getting each other in and out of trouble for almost six years now."

At her look of disbelief, his lips twisted wryly. "I know. It makes me feel old just to say it."

"No, I was just surprised to hear that anybody in the Navy stayed in one place for six years."

"Hey, I'm a lawyer, remember? I'm well-versed in the concept of rolling with the punches," Harm said and shrugged. He knew that C.J. was right. "What about you? I know you expect your boss to win reelection, but if for some reason he doesn't, do you know what you'll do next?"

"I'm trying pretty hard not to think about it at the moment. Ask me again after the convention."

"Whatever you say. At any rate, I imagine there are a number of groups out there who'd kill to have you running point for them."

"You don't know me well enough to mean that," she countered, daring him.

"No, I suppose I don't. But I tend to trust my first impressions."

"And your first impression of tonight is?"

"That you're an enjoyable conversationalist, and that I wouldn't mind repeating tonight in the future. Unless your Thursdays are booked up."

Strangely flattered, she only shook her head. "I think I could manage another jailbreak next week. Same time, same channel?"

"I'll be here. Hopefully closer to the actual specified time, but no promises."

"That goes for me as well. Have a good week."

"You, too."